


Forgiveness

by rangerofdiscord



Series: Amounting to Something [1]
Category: Marvel 616, Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff and Romance, Gwen Stacy Lives, and all that cute gooey shit, brief mentions of injuries, close emotional bonding between women instead of pitting them against each other!, mentions of drugging/kidnapping, slightly nsfw with some mild nudity, some mentions of dead parents, with some mild angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-08-16 03:56:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20187682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rangerofdiscord/pseuds/rangerofdiscord
Summary: Everything fell into place like the pieces of a puzzle. Peter, his connection to Spider-Man and why the Green Goblin had targeted her. But after nearly being killed in order to get back at Peter, can Gwen ever forgive or trust him again?A short, multi-chaptered "fix it fic" exploring a "What if Gwen lived?" situation, using canon from "What if Gwen Stacy had lived?", Marvel's #4, and Clone Conspiracy mixed with my own interpretations and headcanons.





	1. don't fail me now

The stones underneath her were cold, and rough and not quite like any stones she’d ever felt before. As she came to, she began to note how strange it was that the stones were cold, as she could feel the sun still shining from above. But there was a strong wind, and the sound of birds above all around and cars down below. Perhaps she was up high, which would explain how chilly and windy it felt-- 

Opening her eyes, slowly, Gwen tried to think back on the last thing she could remember, some small clue that would tell her where she was. It was all such a blur, though. She had been waiting for Peter to come home to his apartment when something had happened, someone had  _ broken in _ . And wherever she was, it was because of them. 

“Spider-Man!” The high-pitched voice cut through the wind, and for the first time she registered the purple boots in front of her. That was when she finally remembered what happened, and a numbing sense of fear took hold of her. She’d been drugged and kidnapped by the wretched Green Goblin after he broke into Peter’s apartment and went on and on about her being a  _ pawn  _ for him, a  _ murder weapon  _ against Peter Parker and the thing he would use to destroy  _ Spider-Man _ . 

None of it made any sense to her before she’d passed out, and waking up it still seemed like nonsense. Peter and Spider-Man--  _ why did he care _ ? What was the connection, and  _ why her _ ? 

“Or should I say--  _ Mister Parker _ ?” The Goblin went on, not noticing that Gwen had woken up. She still couldn’t bring herself to move, especially not as she realized  _ where  _ she was. The top of a bridge, inches away from the edge where she could fall down onto the traffic below, or the icy waters of the river. Any sudden movements could easily mean the end for her. “I have your  _ woman  _ up here, my friend. I trust you understand what that means?” 

“You tell me, Goblin.” Someone responded, and she could only assume it was Spider-Man.

“ _ Spider-Man _ .” 

“ _ Mister Parker _ .”

_ “Your woman.”  _

_ Oh.  _ It all made sense, and everything fell into place like pieces of a puzzle. Peter’s distance with her after her father’s death, why the Goblin had gone to his apartment in the first place and his raving about her being the weapon against  _ Peter _ , against  _ Spider-Man _ . 

All this time, and he hadn’t told her. 

How many chances did he have to tell her? How many times could he have pulled her aside and told her the truth? How differently would things be now? And why hadn’t he told her? 

So many nights, they’d stayed up texting each other. Telling one another their deepest, darkest secrets. Gwen told him about her mother, how she’d been murdered and how Gwen had been the one to find her. How that night still haunted her, years later. How it affected her. 

He could have told her then, the truth. All of it. And she would have listened, and she would have stayed beside him. Sure, knowing that the man she loved dressed up in a costume and went out to risk his life each night would be anxiety-inducing, but it was better than the fear that he was cheating on her. 

Peter just didn’t trust her. 

Tears formed at the edges of her eyes, and Gwen closed them. It wasn’t fair-- that she had to die. It wasn’t. It wasn’t fair that Peter hadn’t  _ told  _ her, that he hadn’t  _ trusted _ her. After everything they had been through, everything they wanted to do, he’d kept that from her. And for what? Because he didn’t trust her? To keep her safe? How was that plan working out? 

She heard the sound of someone landing on the bridge. “My best bet is to pick up Gwen and  _ run _ . And there’s the lady now-- out like a light. Good thing, too-- if Spidey’s going to save his secret I.D.!” 

He still wasn’t going to tell her. Even if he could save her, he wasn’t going to let her know. How  _ dare  _ he, she was drugged and kidnapped to use  _ against him  _ and there was a very good chance she would die and he wasn’t even going to  _ tell her _ . He was  _ happy  _ that she still seemed passed out, all so that he could keep his precious identity from the woman he claimed to love. 

Gwen wanted to scream at him, to push him away from her as he got up to her. Couldn’t he see, this was all his fault? She’d trusted him, believed in him and  _ loved him _ . They wanted to get  _ married _ . And even after all of this-- he still wouldn’t tell her. 

“Gwen! It looks like she’s in a state of shock, I’ll need to get her to a hospital--” 

“You’ll never take that girl  _ anywhere _ .” 

She couldn’t feel anything. But everything hurt. How could that be? How could her body feel so numb and yet hurt so badly? 

It was all his fault. All she’d ever wanted was to love and be with him, and sure if he’d told her she would have been upset. When he’d tried to confess months ago during her birthday, she’d had a bit of a meltdown. But who could blame her? The thought that the man she loved was some masked vigilante risking his life each night had reawakened some deep-seated fears and anxieties she had. 

But if he’d told her, she could have prepared for something like this. Taken precautions. She was the daughter of a high-ranking criminologist for the NYPD, it wasn’t like her life being in danger was something  _ new  _ to her. And after what happened to her mother, Gwen would have been extra precarious. 

He just didn’t trust her. 

Something rough and piercing bumped into her side, and she went airborne. For the briefest of seconds, her eyes opened as she was suspended in midair. Peter was staring at her, eye lenses wide as he reached out for her--

And then she fell.

The air rushed around her, whistling as the sounds of birds grew softer, and the sounds of traffic grew louder. She was falling, falling, falling. 

And it wasn’t fair.

She didn’t deserve this. 

All her life, she’d been good. 

A kind person, caring to her friends and family. 

What had she done to deserve this?

Someone grabbed her by her midsection and shouted, “Got her!” but they were still falling. Her eyes were closed, dreading the inevitable as the man who grabbed her twisted them in midair so that he was beneath her. 

And then everything went cold, and wet and dark. 


	2. i will ask you for mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of the fall, Gwen struggles to come to terms with some hard realities.

There were lips on hers, warm and familiar. Perhaps this was the afterlife, and they were both dead. Drowned by the icy waters, and wild current. 

Gwen sat up suddenly, coughing up water as she regained consciousness, before falling back into Peter’s arms. Her throat hurt, and she was much too cold and wet to be dead. So she was alive, they had survived. Peter had saved her. 

Wet, clothed arms went around her upper body, pulling her close against Peter’s chest. “Thank you.” His voice was full of relief, arms tight around her as if by letting her go she might fall back into the river again. 

As his grip on her loosened, Gwen raised one hand to her forehead and began to rub at it, trying to dispell the headache that was settling in. She was shivering, soaking wet, in pain and disoriented as Peter began to talk to her, 

“Just relax, honey.” One hand went to wipe some of the water from her cheeks, “Everything’s going to be okay now. I won’t let anybody hurt you again.” 

Anger rose up in her, as she opened her eyes and everything rushed back. Her father. Peter. Spider-Man. The Green Goblin. Her kidnapping and near death. The fact that he hadn’t hold her anything, all of those feelings of betrayal. 

“Relax!?” Her words spluttered into another cough as she doubled over. It hurt so bad to speak, her throat was rough and voice hoarse, but she had been so silent on the bridge that she couldn’t hold anything back anymore. As the shock and drugs in her system began to wear off, Gwen found her voice once more. “You want me to relax?” 

“Peter, I-- I could have  _ died _ . And you want me to relax? You think I can feel safe?” His eyes were wide with surprise at her sudden outburst, and it occured to her that he didn’t know that she already knew about his  _ identitfy _ . 

Of course he didn’t. He’d thought she was still knocked out. He had  _ planned  _ on it. 

Angry tears rushed to the edges of her eyes, a welcome warmth as she she stared up at him, into his beautiful brown eyes. Her body hurt, but it was her heart that hurt the most. She loved him, she really did. He was her Peter Parker, her wonderful and handsome and smart boyfriend. But he was also Spider-Man, the rude and rough and loud-mouthed vigilante that she’d held responsible for the death of her father. 

That wasn’t what was bothering her though, not really. Her father’s death was something she’d come to terms with, an unfortunate accident. And after much soul-searching, Gwen had begun to doubt that Spider-Man really was responsible for the death of George Stacy. She was even willing to help exonerate him. 

No, what bothered Gwen was that Peter never told her. Never bothered to warn her. Never thought about what could’ve happened if someone were to discover his identity. The only conclusion she could come to was that he didn’t trust her, as much as that conclusion hurt. Or maybe he just didn’t want to tell her. Maybe he wanted it to be his secret, forever. What hurt worse? 

“I was awake.” She whispered, and if his eyes could go any wider, they would. “I heard everything you and he said, on that bridge. I knew you wanted to keep your identity secret from me, even after what happened.”

“Gwen, honey, I--” 

“Were you ever going to tell me? Or did you plan on keeping me in the dark forever?” Her body trembled, from the chill of the river and from her own emotions. Her fears and anxieties. 

“Of course not, Gwen. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, and if you’d just listen to me I could explain myself to you.” The utter heartbreak that she felt was echoed in Peter’s eyes as he reached out, begging for her to listen. And she wanted to, underneath all the anger and pain. Seeing him in pain, reaching out for her--  _ it hurt her even more _ . 

Perhaps that was why he didn’t tell her, at least after her father’s death. That fear of being denied, the fear of heartbreak and loneliness… Gwen could understand it. But that still couldn’t excuse him not telling her in the months before her father’s death. 

Turning her head away from him, Gwen pulled her green trenchcoat tighter around her body. “I can’t listen to you right now, Peter. I just can’t. I’m freezing cold, and wet and hurt and anrgy. Just looking at you fills me with so much pain and anger I can hardly stand it. I want to go home. I want to take a bath and make sure my friends and family know that I’m safe.” She could only imagine what the news had seen, what conclusions they had drawn. 

“ _ If I’m safe.”  _ She added as an afterthought, as she remembered why she was on some lonely pier in the first place. The sky above seemed empty, too empty, as the sun began to set and cast the city into darkness. “Where is the Goblin? Is he still on the loose?” 

“Don’t worry about the Goblin, honey.” Pete’s hand on her shoulder caused her to turn, and she watched as he got up and offered her his hand. When she took it, he helped her up and she stood close to him, one hand on his chest. Both of his hands went to settle on the sides of her waist, holding her close. “I’ll get you home, and after that a certain web-slinging friend of ours will take care of him.” 

“Peter…” A knot of anxiety wormed it’s way into her stomach, despite everything she still worried about him. “Can’t the police handle him?” 

“I wish they could, but the Goblin is out of ther league.” His mask seemed to appear out of thin air, and he spoke as he pulled it on. Gone was the curly, thick brown hair he kept pushed back and those warm honey-brown eyes. Peter wasn’t standing before her, only Spider-Man. 

“Like it or not, sweetheart, this is my job. I know it may not be easy for you to stomach, but once you give me the chance to explain--”

One hand went to cover his mouth, or at least she covered where his mouth was under the mask. Gwen already knew what he was going to say, or at least she had an idea of it. 

Years ago, when her father had been working long shifts and coming home too late to spend any time with her, Gwen asked him why he couldn’t let someone else take care of his job so that he’d be able to go home earlier. 

_ “I know you don’t like it, Gwennie, but this badge is my responsibility. I wear it because if I don’t, someone who shouldn’t will.” _ He’d told her, hugging her close. 

Because of that, Gwen knew that Peter had to do this, that he couldn’t just leave it for someone else to take care of. It was his responsibility. 

And as much as she hated it, as much anxiety as it caused her, she could accept it. It’s what her father would have wanted. “Bring me home. I’ll take care of what I need to take care of, and you take care of the Goblin. Then come home to me, and hopefully I’ll be able to listen. Or do my best to.” 

Her hand moved to cup his masked cheek, and he held it close with his own, gloved hand. “That’s all I’m asking, Gwen. Not for you to understand, just to listen.” 

“I know.” She whispered. She only hoped that listening would be enough. 


	3. why don't we full on pretend?

Statements were made. Friends and family were contacted, and notified of her safety. Everyone, from everywhere, blew up the old landline her father had kept that Gwendolyn hadn’t bothered shutting off since his death. Journalists and reporters stood outside her house, hoping for a chance to get a glimpse of her, or ask her for an interview. 

Who knew having a traumatic near-death experience could be so exhausting? 

All of them wanted a story, an angle to run on the 11 o’clock news, or the next morning’s front headlines. ‘Spider-Man: Why Does He Hate the Stacy’s?’ or perhaps ‘What Does the Masked Menace of New York Have Against the Stacy Family?’. No one wanted to listen when she said it wasn’t about that, that her kidnapping was not related to her father’s death. It wasn’t even the same  _ supervillain  _ for crying out loud. No, no one cared. Everyone just wanted the narrative that would make the most money. 

After what seemed like hours and hours of talking, whether to the police or news or family and friends… She was finally free to do what she had been craving since Peter had pulled her out of the river: drink a cup of tea and take a hot, steaming bath.

Thankfully though, she wasn’t entirely alone. Through it all, one person had stuck with her from the moment Gwen had reached out to her to let her know she was alive. 

Mary Jane Watson.

And Gwen was grateful for her, too. After dropping her off at home, and making sure she didn’t need a hospital, Peter had swung off, promising to take care of the Goblin so that she could feel safe. Leaving her alone to deal with the police, press, and everything else that came with a highly publicized near-death experience. Damn social media. 

Had MJ not been there, things would have been much different. The two policemen who had shown up at her door, wanting to talk to her to get the full story were rookies. Neither of them had ever really known her father, and so the lack of respect as they questioned her had exhausted her. They believed that there was some connection between her family and Spider-Man, why else would George Stacy have died in a fight against Doc Ock? Why else would she have been kidnapped by the Green Goblin, and used against Spider-Man? 

Had the man underneath the mask been anyone but Peter, she would have confessed to knowing his identity. But Gwen was still loyal to the man she loved, so she stayed firm that there was no connection. Even as the two officers tried to force it out of her. 

When the tears started forming on the edges of her eyes. Mary Jane had stepped in. The two men had what they needed, they had Gwen’s side of the story and proof she was alive. She told them off for continuing to harass Gwen, and even showed them the door. 

Which finally gave Gwen the time to soak in her bathtub, driving out the chill in her bones that settled in hours prior. But even with the warm water soothing her aching body, she still felt on edge. The knot of anxiety which had worked its way into her stomach earlier was still there. She feared that, in his anger at what had happened, Peter might act reckless in his pursuit of the Goblin. 

Feeling as though she could no longer stand to just sit in her tub and wait, she pushed herself up and out of the hot bath. There were two towels waiting for her on her toilet seat, one a soft pink and the other light blue. Her two favorite colors. Picking up them up, she wrapped one around her head to dry her hair and the other around her body. They were soft, and warm and she held the one wrapped around her body close to her chest as she opened the door to her bedroom, stepping out onto the plush blue carpet. 

“You’re looking awfully steamy tonight, Gwendy.” Mary Jane teased as steam rushed out of the bathroom and into the cooler air of Gwen’s room. She was sitting on Gwen’s bed, legs pulled up to her side as she tossed her phone onto the duvet. 

“I wasn’t aware that I was letting you stay because of your terrible puns, red.” She shot back, sitting down on the chair beside her desk with a sigh. Her muscles seemed to complain at every little movement, no matter how small.

“Ouch. Sounds like your bath didn’t help very much.” MJ leaned back against the headboard of Gwen’s bed, watching her friend with a look of concern. “Still no word from Peter?” 

Peter’s absence had been felt by those around her, with a few questioning where the man she wanted to marry was in such a dire time. All Gwen had been able to tell them was that he knew that she was safe, but unable to get to her until later for… Work-related reasons. How many actually believed that, she wasn’t sure. But the number probably wasn’t very high. She could only hope that they viewed him as some sort of coward, and not… Well, Spider-Man.

“You tell me, MJ. My phone was lost when I was kidnapped, so if he called the landline while I was in the bath, you’d have heard it.” Gwen said, breaking her eye contact with Mary Jane. Her green eyes felt too intense, too probing, too…  _ knowing _ . It made Gwen uncomfortable. How many had guessed who Peter was before even she, the woman he loved, had? 

“Right.” A pause. “Do you need anything else?” 

Turning her head back to look at the other woman, Gwen shook her head. “Maybe a few minutes by myself to change?” 

MJ nodded and hopped up off the bed, taking her phone with her as she did. “You got it, girl. I’ll be right outside, just let me know when you’re done.” 

When the door closed, Gwen got up and crossed the room to stand in front of the full length mirror by her closet. Slowly, she undid the towel on her head and let her damp blonde hair fall down. And then, with even slower movements, she let the towel wrapped tight around her body slip down to the floor. 

There was a large bruise forming on her side, already black and purple. It spanned from the side of her breast, all the way down to her hips. It was big, and ugly, and it was right where the glider had hit her, knocking her off the bridge. A reminder of how close she’d come to death. The bruise was tender and sore, stinging when she poked at it and Gwen couldn’t help but wonder how she was going to wear a bra with it. 

She sat there continuing to stare at it with a strange, morbid curiosity. The idea of bruises on her body in sensitive spots wasn’t something new to her. Many of her fantasies involving Peter almost  _ always  _ involved bruises or hickeys in some manner, but this bruise was different. It symbolized something different.

Growing up with a father in the police department, Gwen was no stranger to danger. All her life, she’d grown up with constant reminders that someone could hurt her, or try to kill her, because of what her father did. Because of who he put away. After her mother’s death, those reminders were even more prevalent. Friends had to be vetted before staying the night, family friends who could pick her up from school had to have background checks, teachers who let her stay late after class were questioned. 

But until going into college, her life had never been in  _ immediate  _ danger. Maybe she’d have to take a different route going home from school after a trial ended poorly, or stay at a friends house on the night of a prisoner move. The only time she had ever been faced with death and her own mortality was the night of her mother’s death, and that was years ago. 

Was this what it would be like? Being with Peter? Would her life be in more danger, would she constantly have these painful reminders of what she nearly lost? 

The door opened suddenly, ruining her train of thought. Mary Jane peeked her head inside and Gwen jumped, rushing to try and cover herself but it was too late. MJ had already seen the bruise and the look of concern on her face said it all. 

Sighing, the redhead closed the door behind her and leaned on it. Her eyes were on the bruise, but slowly they trailed up to Gwen’s eyes. 

Everyone in their group of friends viewed Mary Jane as an airheaded, carefree party girl with no worries or issues. Not a single one of them ever thought she could ever be serious. Only Gwen seemed to be able to tell that it was a mask, and for the first time since the two had known each other, it seemed that the mask was breaking. 

“Gwen, are you sure you’re okay?” Mary Jane whispered, looking at her friend with a sad expression. 

“I told you earlier, I’m sure I’ll be fine with time. Once the bruise heals, I won’t have any physical reminders and--” 

“I don’t just mean if you’re going to find a way to move past this and heal. I mean if you’re sure you’ll be okay  _ in the future _ .” She emphasized the last part, and pushed herself off of the door in order to go and sit back on the edge of the bed. As Gwen watched her walk, she slowly pulled the towel back up and against her chest. 

“I’m not sure what it is that you’re trying to say, Mary Jane.” That was a lie, of course. She knew where the conversation was going, but it felt too soon. 

“You were lying to the police earlier, weren’t you? When you said that you weren’t sure what connection the Goblin saw between you and Spider-Man, and that you didn’t have a connection with Spider-Man to begin with.” Mary Jane looked up at her, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. “I know you have to be, because I know you, Gwendolyne. Anytime anybody doesn’t treat you the way you feel you deserve, you become colder than ice.”

“But Peter hasn’t shown up at all since you let us know that you survived that fall-- and you’ve been fine through it all, even when I know you’ve been cold to him for  _ much  _ less.” She continued before Gwen could even try to defend herself, and she kept on going. “You can make any excuses for him you want, but we both know where he is, don’t we? It was all over your face when the police asked if you had a connection Spider-Man, and when I asked you where Peter was when I first got here.” 

Pulling the towel back around her body, Gwen looked down as she took the few short steps it took to reach her bed and sit down next to her best friend. “I only just found out tonight, he-- the  _ Goblin _ , he called him by his name. Called him _ Mr. Parker _ . He wanted to kill me, to destroy Peter-- to destroy  _ Spider-Man _ .” Turning, she dragged her eyes up and away from the duvet, to look at Mary Jane. “How did you know?” 

“I saw him change and swing off one day at my Aunt’s house. I promised myself I would keep it a secret, but seeing that bruise on you… You’re my friend, Gwendy. I needed to make sure you knew.” MJ said, finally meeting Gwen’s eyes. They stared at each other in silence, while Gwen fiddled with the edges of her towel as she contemplated how best to respond. 

“I feel like such an idiot.” Turning away, Gwen let the towel slip as she raised one hand to wipe away the sudden tears in her eyes. “How many people have guessed it, except for me? Here I was, worried that he was just  _ cheating  _ on me, when in reality he was really Spider-Man.” 

“Gwen, don’t--” Mary Jane reached out to comfort her, but Gwen just kept going. The words flowed like her tears, and she couldn’t stop them. 

“He didn’t tell me, even before my father was killed and I don’t know what could be worse-- that he didn’t trust me, or he just didn’t want me to know. That he wanted it to be his own secret. Or maybe he didn’t think I could handle it,” She tried to laugh, but it just turned into another row of coughing. MJ seemed to realize that Gwen just needed to vent out her frustrations, and settled in next to the sobbing girl, rubbing her back. “I told him my deepest darkest secrets, Mary Jane. Things I’ve never told anyone, not even Harry. But he couldn’t even tell me his. How fair is that?” 

“Well, not to give him any undue credit, but remember when he had the flu and told us all that he was Spider-Man? You had like, a  _ full on  _ mental breakdown and maybe he was just worried that you couldn’t handle it.” 

Turning her head, angry thoughts flashed through Gwen’s mind. She wanted to snap and scream at the other woman, for defending Peter at a time like this. When MJ was supposed to be on  _ her  _ side. “I was upset because I was  _ worried _ , Mary Jane. You’ve seen the danger Spider-Man gets himself into, how close he’s come to dying. How am I supposed to react when I find out that the man I love is constantly putting himself in that kind of danger?” 

Shrugging her shoulders, MJ gave her a peculiar look. “I’m not trying to defend him, but can you blame him after that?” 

“Yes, I can.” Gwen snapped back, pulling away. The rational part of her mind said that it was idiotic to get angry at MJ, of course she would be defending Peter, her friend. “I’m the daughter of a _former,_” It was still so difficult to talk about her father in the past tense, “High ranking member of the police, a _detective _who was investigating Spider-Man. Why wouldn’t I be upset to find out that the man I loved was some.. Some vigilante that the cops wanted to arrest?” 

It wasn’t just that, either. Gwen had told Peter, once when it was late at night and they were having a deep conversation about their lives, what had happened to her mother. He should’ve known that she would be worried for him, swinging off each night to risk his life fighting the scum of the city. 

A soft, warm hand reached out to take her own, squeezing gently. When Gwendolyne looked up, through eyes full of tears, Mary Jane was leaning forward and looking at her with a gentle expression. It was so different from the mask she normally wore, that it surprised Gwen to see. 

“Gwendy, I know Peter, and so do you. You know it wasn’t that he didn’t trust you, or that he didn’t want to keep it to himself. We both do.” And it was true. Deep down, in her heart, Gwen knew that was the truth. She knew that she trusted and loved Peter, and that he must have had his own reasons for keeping his secret from her. “I know you’re worried for him, and trust me it hasn’t been easy all this time, knowing his secret and seeing the things he does. I’ve wanted to talk to you about it for so long.” 

“But don’t you see? Now that we both know, we can help each other. I can be there for you, when you get anxious or scared.” The redhead grinned, her green eyes twinkling like the stars, “I can drag you out and take you dancing so that your mind isn’t on silly Mr. Parker and his web-slinging friend.” 

With her free hand, Gwen wiped away some of her tears and sniffled, laughing despite herself. “You’re right, Mary Jane. Of course you are. You always are, even when you try not to be.” 

Sighing, she deflated a bit and looked out across the room, a troubled expression on her face. “I guess there’s just been so much going on today, I haven’t had the time to think properly about what’s happened. Harry, the Goblin, Peter, nearly dying.. It’s all just been so much.” 

“But you’re right. I know Peter, and I know he loves me and I trust that he would have told me… At least before we were married.” That’s what she hoped. “It’s just hard… Processing all of these feelings and emotions.” 

“Is it because of your dad?” 

“No… Not anymore, at least. I stopped blaming Spider-Man a week or so ago, actually.” Her gaze returned back to her hand, fingers intertwined with Mary Jane’s. “It’s more… How I found out, and knowing the dangers Pete’s in. It’s not like I don’t know what it’s like to have my own life put in danger because of the people I love, my father raised me to be wary and take precautions in case anyone ever tried to hurt me to get back at him.” 

There was another deep sigh as Gwen fell onto the couch, sinking into the fluffy white duvet. MJ turned so that she was still looking down at her, their hands still clasped together. “I just never imagined that Peter was in danger so much, and the thought of it… It worries me. What if he gets killed one day, or disappears with no explanation and I’m stuck here always wondering… Always hoping…” 

“So.. It’s not so much about yourself, then.” It was a statement, not a question. Looking up, Gwen nodded her head. 

“Well, unfortunately I’m not sure if I can help you there, sister. But like I said..” There was another squeeze of their hands. “I’m here for you, Gwendy. Always.”

In that moment, Gwen knew that no matter what happened, her and Mary Jane would always be the closest of friends. No matter what happened in their past, no matter how many jealous moments they might have had, or teasing remarks that they threw out… They would always be this. Friends.

Sitting up, Gwen smiled through her tears and sorrow, and pulled the other girl in for a tight hug. It didn’t matter that she still didn’t have any clothes on, or that the two of them were never much for hugging, what mattered was that MJ was there for her when she needed it most. 

As they pulled away from each other, Mary Jane got up from the bed slowly. “You should probably get some clothes on, blondie. Don’t want you to get a chill again.” 

Gwen sat up and wiped away the tears still trickling down her cheeks before nodding. “Right. Of course” She got up and made her way to her dresser, speaking as she pulled out her bed clothes. “Thank you, again, for coming over and being here with me, MJ. I don’t think I could have done this without you.”

“Well, it meant missing out on some prime nightlife hours, but I guess it was worth it if it means that poor Mr. P doesn’t come home to a pissed-off Gwen Stacy.” 

Pulling her long-sleeved silk shirt over her head, Gwen snorted. “Don’t worry, the night is still young for the both of us.” Once the shirt was settled, she fluffed out her long blonde hair. “I’m sure you’ll find something fun to do, meanwhile I’ll make sure that Mr. Parker and I still have a nice, long conversation.”

“Speaking of which… When is he coming home?” 

Pulling out a pair of soft pink panties and her matching silk shorts, Gwen turned around and shrugged. It still worried her, how long it was taking Peter to come home, but with MJ around that worry seemed… Lessened. “Not sure, why?” She asked, pulling both items of clothing on. 

Stepping forward, Mary Jane made her way to where Gwen was and placed both of her hands on Gwen’s arms. “I was just thinking, how about I stay here until Peter gets here. And then once he’s here, I can go try to find something to do in the city.” 

There was a soft smile on Gwen’s lips that turned in something a bit more teasing. “You sure you don’t mind wasting part of your night with a shut-in like me?” 

“ _ Ha _ .” Wrapping one arm under and around Gwen’s, Mary Jane began to pull her away from her dresser, towards the door. “I’ve seen you dance, Gwendolyne. There’s nothing  _ boring  _ about you when you want to have  _ fun _ .” 

“And is that where you’re taking me? To have  _ fun  _ outside of my room?” 

“You’re warmed up now, and in clean clothes. You can afford to have some  _ fun  _ waiting for your heroic boyfriend to return home to you.” Mary Jane teased, pushing the door ajar. She turned to Gwen as she pulled her through, and out into the hall. “After all, what’s a better distraction than dancing to music, or watching a fun flick?” 

“I think it would be safer for me to sit on a couch and watch a fun flick. If I try dancing with this bruise, I might fall over.” She responded, and although she was quite serious, there was still that playful tone to her voice. It felt strange, being so playful and teasing despite all that had happened in the day. 

But wasn’t that what being with people who cared for you did? Even on your worst nights, they were supposed to make you feel better. That’s what they were there for.

“Is tonight the night you try to prove me wrong? What’s life without a bit of  _ risk _ , Gwendy. I’m sure you can find a way to have fun and dance with--” As they reached the bottom of the stairs, the doorbell rang and both girls stared at the door, silent until someone called out, 

“Gwen, honey? It’s Peter.” 

“Saved by the bell.” MJ tsked as they both made their way to the door, with MJ grabbing her purse along the way. 

“Ha-ha.” The locks were flipped, and Gwen opened the door, looking out into the cold fall night. The street lights were on, illuminating Peter as he stood in front of them. He looked horrible. Tired, anxious, and like he’d been through hell to get back to her. The two lovers stared up at each other, searching each other’s face for some sort of answer as to what the past few hours had brought. 

“No ‘Hi Honey, I’m home’?” MJ asked, cutting through the momentary silence. Blinking, Peter looked away from Gwen and over to the redhead standing at the edge of the doorframe. 

“Mary Jane?” 

“It’s a pity you finally showed up, Mr. Parker. I was just about to get Gwen to dance with me, and forget all about you.” She teased, and Gwen rolled her eyes before stepping outside to join Peter. 

It was obvious from the look in his normally soft, brown eyes, that he truly had been through hell for her. And whatever had happened between him and the Goblin, he’d had to face it alone. While she’d spent the past few hours with her best friend. 

Feeling the need to suddenly pull him inside, push Mary Jane out, and mother Peter, she took his hands gently before stepping back into her house. “C’mon inside, lover. I promise to forgive you for keeping me from dancing with MJ.” 

He stepped inside, but the door stayed open as Mary Jane leaned against it. “I’m guessing that’s my cue to leave?”

“Unless you’d like to stay and listen to me mother our dear Petey here.” Gwendolyne teased, wrapping an arm around Peter’s waist as he leaned on her good side. 

“What a shame. Sure you can’t find a way to dance while taking care of him?” 

“I’m not sure I want to.”

“Your loss.” MJ teased, and Gwen briefly let go of Peter to reach out and give the other girl a hug. 

If Mary Jane was surprised by the sudden hug, she didn’t let on. One arm went around Gwen’s unbruised side, squeezing gently. When they separated, that soft expression was back on Mary Jane’s face. 

“We’ll go dancing once my bruise heals, red. Promise.” And Gwen meant it, too. 

“Promises, promises.” MJ had one foot out the door, but before she left, she looked back at Gwen once more. Their eyes met briefly, before Mary Jane glanced up at Peter and grinned. “Go easy on him, blondie. And good luck.” 

The door was shut before Gwen could reply, and Mary Jane was gone. Sighing, she locked the door and turned back to look at Peter. He opened his arms warily, and she happily stepped into them. They went around her body, safe and warm and holding her close to his body. 

“Hi honey,” Peter murmured, pressing his lips to the top of her head. “I’m home.” 

Smiling, Gwen pulled back to look up at him. “And I’m ready.” As his arms loosened around her, she took one small step back and his hands went in hers. They were cold, and as she intertwined their fingers, she looked down at them. “I’m ready now.” 


	4. all that matters

It felt like they were children. Both of them sat on her bed, cross legged and across from each other. She wanted to be curled up in his lap, or snuggled up against his chest, but sitting across from him felt better. It felt more appropriate for the situation. 

Peter spent the better part of thirty minutes laying out his life for her. The initial spider bite, the fear of the unknown, then the rush when he realized what he could do. How he exploited his powers, and how that came back to haunt him for the rest of his life. Why he donned the mask each night, and devoted his life to stopping crime and saving people. 

_ With great power, comes great responsibility _ . Her father would have liked that motto, that saying. He’d always said that his badge was his responsibility, that he wore it so that someone else who didn’t deserve it wouldn’t. He always had been a good judge of character.

Throughout it all, Gwen sat and listened. She watched Peter as he spoke, his facial expressions. There was sincerity in his face, from the way his eyes turned dark and haunted when he spoke of his uncle’s death, to the almost resigned look when he told her why he couldn’t just give up being Spider-Man. And she understood.

But she still had her questions. 

“Why didn’t you tell me, Peter?” She asked as he came to a natural stopping point in his story. They hadn’t gotten to her father yet, and that was still something that they needed to discuss, but that subject was a bit more uncomfortable. “Did you not trust me?” 

“I wanted to tell you, Gwendy.” One hand reached out to take her own, rough and warm against her colder and smoother skin. “It just seemed like everytime I wanted to, something happened. And when I did finally tell you before your father died you…” 

“Cried a lot?” She offered, and he gave her a small smile. “What were you afraid of? Were you worried I would stop loving you, because I was crying?” 

“Worried I’d lose you, worried you wouldn’t want to marry me, worried you’d stop loving me…” He trailed off and shrugged, sitting back in a more relaxed pose. 

Gwen shook her head, intertwining their fingers together as they sat there, across from one another. “As if I could ever stop loving you, Peter. You’re the love of my life, and I’m sure once the initial shock.. Wears off, I’ll love you even more. I just…” Now it was her turn to trail off, looking away from him as if to avoid the look on his face when she finally found the words to describe how she felt. 

“I was worried you didn’t trust me enough to tell me.” Blue eyes darted back to his face, and she watched as Peter’s face fell ever so slightly. “When you were up on that bridge.. You sounded happy at the prospect of me continuing to be in the dark. I was angry. I was hurt. I still am, but I trust you. I trust that you had good reasons to not tell me. Or at least, I want to.” 

Peter sighed, and ran his free hand through his dark, curly brown hair. “You hated Spider-Man, with a passion I’d never seen before. I didn’t want you to hate me, especially after you nearly died because of me.” 

That was… A very valid reason. Not even she could argue against it, because it was true. She’d  _ loathed  _ Spider-Man with every ounce of her being. That hatred had helped push her through the initial pain of her father’s death, it had numbed and redirected the complicated thoughts and feelings. 

“I used to blame you for my father’s death, it’s true. But recently I started to become more… Uncertain.” Looking down at their fingers, she squeezed his hand gently. “I started to realize that my blame was misplaced, and I remembered how much my father had respected Spider-Man, respected  _ you _ .” 

Slowly, Gwen brought her gaze back up to Peter’s face, and noted that he was watching her with a curious expression, something she couldn’t quite place. It was like he knew what she was about to say next, but whatever his response was going to be, she couldn’t tell. 

“Peter, darling.” The question that was about to come was one she didn’t want to ask. Whatever answer he had for it, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. But it had to happen. How could they ever continue to be together if they never addressed what first caused the rift between them? 

“What happened that night?” Her voice seemed like a distant whisper, as if it was far below, or she was up high above it. 

She’d thought that he might look away from her, unable to meet her gaze, like the days after her father’s death. But he never looked away, hand gripping her tightly. “Your father was the bravest man I’d ever known, Gwendy.” 

“He saved that boy’s life, but the rubble Doc Ock knocked off the edge of the building hit  _ him  _ instead.” Peter’s voice was full of pain, and she could the anguish in his eyes as he spoke. He’d loved her father, cared for him. George Stacy’s death obviously hurt him. “I tried to get him to a hospital, that’s why I picked him up. But it was too late, I couldn’t get him to one in time.” 

It wasn’t until the tears began to flow down her cheeks that she even realized she was crying, and her eyes broke away from Peter’s as she raised a trembling hand up to try and wipe them away. Peter paused, watching and waiting.

Was it relief that she felt? She trusted Peter, and her father had trusted Spider-Man. He wouldn’t lie to her, and what he said matched the witness statements from that night. Her father was murdered, yes-- but not by Spider-Man. Not by Peter. ‘

“Did he-- Did he say anything? Before he died? What were his last words?” 

“He called me Peter.” 

Her heart seemed to drop straight to her stomach. He called him  _ Peter _ . Whipping her head up, she saw the faintest trace of tears in Peter’s eyes, and Gwen remembered how much her father had meant to  _ Peter _ . How he lost two of his father figures, all because of his powers. 

But in his last moments, her father had called him  _ Peter _ … “That must mean that he knew, right?” She asked, working her thoughts out aloud. “He knew who you were!” 

“I think he knew for sometime, at least since your birthday.” Those warm hands found hers again, squeezing tightly. “He asked me to look after you, to be good to you. I promised him I would love and cherish you forever.” 

She watched as his gaze moved away from her face, down to the spot on her side where he must have known a bruise was forming. “I wouldn’t say that I’ve done a very good job at that, though.” 

Gwen knew that look on his face, the tone in his voice. It was the same look and tone that her father would have when he came home after a long night, unable to protect or save someone. It was a look of self-defeating guilt, one that used to eat him up and destroy him. And she wasn’t about to let Peter go down that path. 

“Don’t.” Reaching out, she cradled Peter’s cheek in her hand, forcing him to look up at her. “Don’t go down that path Peter, please. It won’t make you feel any better, and I won’t let you sit here and blame yourself for what happened tonight.” 

“Gwen, sweetie--” 

“You saved me, Peter, don’t you see? I’m alive tonight  _ because of you _ .” Sitting up, she took one of his hands and placed it over her chest, so that he could feel her heartbeat. “And I know you’ll keep your promise to my father.” 

Peter smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. It was a tired, sad smile. “I’ve taken care of the Goblin, honey. But what if someone else finds out? What if I’m followed home? You’re not worried about something like this happening again?” 

“I can take care of myself.” She said simply, continuing with, “And besides, do you think my life was a breeze before you came along? I’m no stranger to danger, handsome. My father made quite a few enemies during his time on the force, it’s not like this is some new concept to me.” 

“And I’m not about to give up what we have just because of some distant, possible future. I love you Peter, I’ve never loved anyone like you before and I want to make this work. I want to make  _ us _ work.” Smiling, Gwen reached up to cup both of his cheeks now. The edges of her thumbs sat on the edges of his lips, turning them up into an actual smile. 

Reaching up, Peter grabbed one of Gwen’s hands and pulled them both down onto the bed. Her fluffy duvet seemed to puff up around them as they fell back, foreheads pressed together. In their own world. 

“What did I ever do to deserve you, pretty lady?” He asked, pressing his lips quickly against her own. 

She giggled, “Sometimes I ask  _ myself  _ that question, Mr. P.” 

“Ever come up with a good answer?” He asked, grinning. 

“You’re quite handsome.” Nuzzling her way closer, Gwen pecked his nose. “And you don’t mind that I’m as smart as, if not smarter than, you.” 

“Those are the only two things, huh? Must be a lot of horrible guys at E.S.U., if those are your only requirements.” Peter teased as he settled back into the bed, arms behind his head. 

“Or I just have incredibly low standards.” Her eyes narrowed playfully as she smirked. “Normally not being a vigilante is one of them, but for you I suppose I’ll make an exception.” 

Hearing Peter laugh wasn’t something she expected, after everything that they’d gone through. And hearing herself laugh with him was even less expected. It was a good feeling though, it showed that no matter what, they could still laugh and tease one another and be… Normal. Happy. In love. 

As their laughter died off, Gwen pressed her forehead against Peter’s, eyes closed. “You took care of the Goblin?” 

“Of course.” Two arms wrapped around her waist, holding her close. “You’re safe, honey. He won’t be able to hurt you anymore.” 

Moving to a more comfortable position, Gwen settled in on his shoulder blade, forehead pressed against his neck. “What happened?” 

“You’ll read about it in the paper tomorrow, so I guess it’s better you hear it from me.” He sighed, tilting his head to rest on top of her own. “The Goblin was killed by his own glider. I didn’t want him to die, not like that at least. I was close to killing him myself, just to make sure he could never hurt you again, never lay a  _ finger  _ on you--” His grip on her got tighter, then loosened suddenly as he cut himself off. 

“It wasn’t me, though. Like I said, his glider killed him. And I’m not sure how to feel about it.” He moved one of his arms away from her, to run his hand over his face. “People’s deaths, dying in general… You’re not supposed to feel happy about that. And I’m not, but I guess I am… Relieved? He’s gone now, and he can’t hurt you anymore. That’s what matters. Is it wrong, though? To feel relieved?” 

She was silent, contemplating her own feelings, as he continued, “I was taught by my uncle that everyone, as long as they’re alive, has the chance to grow and change. When they’re dead, they can’t work towards being a better person anymore. That’s why I don’t kill, it isn’t my place to decide whether or not someone is capable of changing.” 

“You didn’t kill him, Peter.” Gwen whispered, one hand resting over the edge of his chest. “You’re not at fault.” 

“I know, I’m just not sure how to feel about it.” 

“It’s okay to not know how to feel.” Her legs slid off of him as she sat up, her hair falling into her face as she looked down at her lover, one hand on his opposite side. “When my mother’s killer died alone in jail, I didn’t know how to feel. Should I have been happy that there was finally some sort of justice? Sad that she died alone? Angry that her death still didn’t bring my mother back to me?” 

“To be honest, darling, I’m still not sure how to feel. I don’t know if I ever will know. But that’s not what matters, not right now.” She took his hand in her own, and settled them both in her lap. “What matters right now is that we’re safe. That we’re together. That’s all that matters.” 

Smiling softly, Peter bumped his hand against her hip. “Still sure about this? About us?” 

Gwen looked down at him. The road ahead wasn’t going to be nearly as easy as she once dreamed, and the perfect, idyllic life she’d always hoped for was probably unlikely. And even though she’d be trading any chance of those hopes and dreams for a life that was full of dangers and anxieties, Gwen couldn’t imagine any other person for her. 

They were soulmates. 

“Peter, darling. Love of my life.” She whispered, leaning down to kiss him. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” 

And that was all that mattered. 


	5. what comes after this?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As time went on, the water began to lose its warmth, but still they stayed there. Close to one another. Outside the bathroom door, the world and all of it’s horrors waited for them. As long as they stayed inside, and didn’t leave their safe haven, nothing could bother them.

It was early in the morning. How early, Gwen couldn’t quite tell. All she knew was that by the time she’d given up on falling back asleep, disentangled herself from Peter’s limbs and stumbled into her bathroom, the sun was just a pale, creamy-blue streak on the horizon. So it was early. Before 7 a.m., but that didn’t matter.

What mattered was the way the hot water from her bath eased her aching muscles, and drove the chill out of her bones. No matter how hard she’d cuddled into Peter’s side, the chill from the river hadn’t gone away. She’d woken up, shivering under the covers after a rather depressing nightmare. One where she’d nearly drowned, Peter unable to pull them both up above the surface… 

Closing her eyes, Gwen sighed and leaned back against the edge of the tub. In only a few hours, New York City would be abuzz over the death of Norman Osborn. They would more than likely blame Spider-Man. She’d have to go to the Osborn residence, look Harry in the face and console him rather than accuse his father of attempted murder. Because that’s what good, caring,  _ compassionate  _ friends did. They didn’t tell their grieving friend that his father tried to murder them, and they didn’t take their anger out on the person. 

“Gwen?” Peter’s sleepy voice stopped her from dwelling on the thought of Harry and his father’s death, and she glanced up at him. He still seemed half-asleep, leaning on the frame of the bathroom door and blinking at the sudden light. He never wore any clothes outside of underwear to bed, meaning that from where she was sitting, she was able to get a  _ very  _ good look at him. 

“G’morning, man of mine.” She said, resting her arms on the side of the tub, her chin settling on top. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“Mm. Noticed you were gone. Got worried.” Yawning and running a hand over his face, Peter pushed himself off of the doorframe and went to sit on the toilet seat. “You’re taking a bath this early?” 

“I couldn’t sleep. I was too cold, and whenever I closed my eyes… I thought of things I didn’t want to think of.” Her head tilted to the side, watching him as he looked down at her, a concerned look on his face. 

“Gwen, I--” 

“It’s fine, Peter.” She cut him off before he could go down some self-blaming path, like she knew he would. He was responsible, and she loved that about him, but sometimes that responsibility was detrimental to his overall wellbeing.

“If you’d like, you can join me. I’ll have to get out first, but it’ll be a nice…” She trailed off, pausing for a moment as she tried to find the right word. “ _ Distraction _ .” 

Yawning once more as he got up and stretched his arms, Pete nodded his head. “Of course, honey. Whatever you need.” The last part was more of a murmur than anything else, but it was still loud enough for Gwen to catch it, and her cheeks flushed. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t feel bad about Peter doing anything she could ever want, but she didn’t want it to come across like she was taking advantage of their rather unfortunate situation. 

Still, as Peter began to pull his boxer briefs down, she pushed herself up and stepped out of the tub. Leaving the warm water behind was difficult, but she knew it’d be worth it. Especially after moving to press her body against Pete’s, arms around his neck while giving him a rather passionate good morning kiss. 

One hand gently, briefly touched her hip and then it was gone as soon as the kiss was over. Her lover smiled down at her, a slightly cocky tilt to it that she always loved. “Good morning to you, too.” Peter teased as he left her side, climbing into the tub. 

Water splashed over the side of the tub as Gwen joined him, settling in between his legs and leaning back against his chest. Her neck was right up against his shoulder blade, and she couldn’t help but let out a content sigh as two arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her ever so closer. They were warm, and strong, and she knew that as long as she was between them she’d always be safe. She would always be  _ loved _ . 

“I love you, Peter.” Now it was Gwen’s turn to murmur, her head turning to the side as she nuzzled her forehead against his neck. 

He seemed to pause, before leaning down to press his lips against the top of her head. “I love you too, Gwendy.” 

They stayed like that for a while, silent and just… Content in one another’s arms. When Gwen closed her eyes, she didn’t see the Goblin’s wide, white eyes staring at her with a horrifyingly gleeful look. She didn’t hear his shrill voice, piercing through the wind, announcing that she was about to die. 

All she thought about was Peter. The steady drum of his heartbeat, the way his breathing became softer and more regular as he began to doze off. How his chest rose and fell, and her with it. She thought of how lucky she was, and what the road ahead would look like for the two of them. 

As time went on, the water began to lose its warmth, but still they stayed there. Close to one another. Outside the bathroom door, the world and all of it’s horrors waited for them. As long as they stayed inside, and didn’t leave their safe haven, nothing could bother them. 

“Peter?” Gwen finally asked, moving her head away from his neck as she lifted one leg up to stretch it out. 

“Mm?” When she looked up at him, his eyes blinked open slowly. Upon registering that she was still curled in his arms he smiled, squeezing her waist. 

“How do you do it?” 

“Do what?” 

“Every day, my father would see horrible things. Terrible things. And he had to find a way to live with that. He had to find a way to close his eyes each night and sleep without seeing those awful things.” She paused, tilting her head. “After my mother’s death, I had to as well. But I was too young to remember whatever the counselor said to get me to sleep.” 

“How do you do it?” 

Peter raised one of his brows, and with a bemused look on his face, said “I thought you wanted a distraction.” 

“It’s not  _ necessarily  _ about  _ him _ .” Her words were layered with a thick tone of disgust. “But it’s about  _ you _ . I want to marry you one day Peter, but there’s this whole other side of you I’ve never seen before… A side I don’t know anything about. If we want to make it, I need to  _ know  _ who you are.” 

His lips were pursed together as he looked down at her while she explained herself. When she was finished he was quiet for a moment, obviously thinking about what she’d said. “I try to think about you, Gwen. At night, before I go to sleep. And not everything I think about is saucy or inappropriate.” He added in response to the look on her face. “I just think about the good in our relationship, I remember the small moments with you throughout the day. That’s what helps me sleep at night.” 

Tilting her head to one side, the smile on her face felt as warm and bright as her chest did. She was practically  _ beaming _ with happiness. “It makes me  _ so _ happy to hear that I help you, Peter.”

“You’ve no idea how much you’ve helped me, Gwendy.” One hand went to cup her chin, tilting her head up to him. “And now that you know, now that I know you’re okay with our  _ web-slinging  _ friend, everything is going to be so much easier.” 

“Even if Jonah blames you for--” She hesitated to say his name, “ _ His  _ death?” 

“With you by my side? Still in love with me? I could give a  _ damn  _ what Jonah and the Bugle think.” As he said it, though, she could see a flash of frustration in his warm eyes. The responsibility being pinned on him would bother him, no matter what he said. 

Gwen would just have to learn how to get him to talk to her about things like that. 

“‘Screw what the rest of the world thinks, we’ve got each other’ sort of thing?” She asked, smiling and leaning into his touch. 

“Exactly.” Leaning back, he stretched his arms out and grinned. “You get it.” 

“I’m a woman in STEM, darling. Believe me when I tell you that I know what it’s like to have people constantly questioning you, blaming you for things you didn’t do, or coming up with some false narrative to ruin your reputation.” His eyes widened a bit at the sudden serious shift from Gwen as she pulled herself out of the rapidly growing colder water, turning back to her lover with an outstretched hand. 

“Now, shall we go face whatever horrible things face us outside of this door?” 

Taking her hand, Peter got up quicker than she’d ever seen someone get up, using nearly none of her weight to help him. If she looked shocked, or horrified, he didn’t say anything though. Just stepped out onto the rug next to her tub, one arm already around her waist to pull her close. “Together?” 

Leaning in close, Gwen tilted her head so that her chin was pressed against his chest, a small smile on her lips. “Together.”

  
  


As she combed her damp hair, fingers running through after to try and work out any particularly nasty knots, Gwen couldn’t help but be distracted by Peter’s fidgeting on her bed. It was hard to focus on anything but the noise of him shifting his weight, the leaning back and then forward. 

She sighed as she heard him lean back on the bed again. Setting her comb down, Gwen turned around to face him, thinking that she knew what he wanted. But Peter just sat there, watching her with wide, curious eyes. One of his hands, his left hand, was covering something small and square and-- 

He sat up again, and the box disappeared. “Something wrong?” 

“No.” She blinked, her frustration suddenly replaced with curiosity, then got up and crossed the space between them, kneeling on the floor in front of where he sat. Her head leaned on his knee, chin pressing in. “What’s in your hand?” 

“What?” 

“There was something in your hand.” She poked at his left hand, the hand that had covered the box. 

Raising a brow, Peter looked down at her with an almost defeated look. “If I told you you were just seeing things as a result of your lack of sleep--” 

“I’m not some _ idiot _ , Mr. Parker.” 

Now Peter sighed, his face scrunching up as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I was going to wait until after breakfast. I didn’t really have it all planned out, I mean I  _ did _ , before last night--” He was blabbering on and on, and Gwen felt her heart start to race. She wasn’t sure she was ready for this. Did she want it? Absolutely. But was she ready? She couldn’t be so sure. “--but after what happened, I figured, well. Something could happen at any moment to us, so why not just ask you today?” He finished, his eyes not on her. Gwen sat up, one hand on his knee. 

“Peter.” She was barely breathing, her voice was so soft. “What are you going to ask me?” 

Finally, he looked down at her. The box re-appeared again. Small, and brown, and suede. “You have every right to say no, Gwendy. I won’t blame you, after what happened with you and your fat--” 

“Peter.” Her voice was harsher than she wanted it to be, and she bit her lip to keep from snapping at him any further. 

He watched her face, and he was silent for a moment. Contemplating. And then the box flipped open. 

It was beautiful. A small, golden ring with a pale rose quartz crystal in the shape of a teardrop. Small, white pearls lined the curved bottom of the rose quartz, adding to its beauty. It matched her perfectly. 

Before Peter could sit up, before he could ask her a question she wasn’t ready for yet, Gwen reached out and slowly closed the lid of the box. He glanced down at her with a confused, hurt expression but she simply pulled herself up on the bed to sit next to him. 

“I want to marry you, Peter. I want us to be together forever.” Leaning on his shoulder, Gwen took his free hand in her own and intertwined their fingers. “But so much has happened, and so much more is going to happen. My father, the Goblin, Harry’s grief over his father,  _ you  _ being  _ Spider-Man _ …” 

Trailing off, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “One day, when we’re both ready, I want you to get down on your knees and ask me. Preferably in some overly grand, romantic gesture that will make our friends want to vomit.” She teased, and he laughed. 

“For now though, let’s just take this one day at a time. I want to, and  _ need  _ to get to know you better. I need to.. Really come to terms with you being Spider-Man.” Pulling away, she looked up at him, her free hand cupping his cheek. At least the pain was gone from his eyes. 

“I understand, Gwendy.” He caught her hand with his own, and pressed his lips against her warm skin. “One day at a time.” 

Poking his nose with one extended finger, Gwen smiled as she stood back up and went back to her vanity table. “You do realize what that means, right?” She called out as Peter flopped back onto the bed. 

“Hmm?” 

With her smile turning into a grin, she glanced back at Peter, hair flipped over her shoulder. “You’re going to have to move in with me, at some point.” 

**Prologue**

“It’s a miracle, is what it is.” Serba was leaned up against the counter in the small lab, staring at his creation with an excited look. “I honestly wasn’t expecting it to work. Cloning an entire living thing through gene cloning and not reproductive? Most people said it was impossible.” The young man nodded at the petri dish that sat on the table. “But I did it.” 

Warren tapped his fingers impatiently on the table. Serba was a fine student, a good lab assistant to him. But he’d never expected the young man to be able to  _ outdo  _ him before he even reached his  _ graduate  _ studies. 

He could live with that, though. What Serba had done was remarkable, truly. In no time, word would spread throughout the scientific community, and the experiment would be replicated on more than just amphibians. Mammals, such as mice or rats would be next. 

The natural step up from that would be  _ humans _ , but many in the scientific community balked at the idea of that. Of the  _ moral  _ and  _ ethical  _ problems that cloning humans could create. But what other choice would Warren have? The more he tried to help Gwen, to help her see what a  _ horrid  _ choice she’d made with Parker, the more she distanced herself from him. 

Cloning was the only option. 

“We’ll need to repeat the experiment, of course.” Warren said, leaning forward with his head in his hands. “How long do you think it’ll be until we began testing this with mammals?” 

Serba perked up at the chance to impress his professor. “Less than a week, sir. I can get started now, and replicate the procedure with the frog again. Once we get it down perfectly, we can move on to mammals.” 

“Good.” Warren leaned back in his seat, a small smile on his face. “Good.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa! Two months after starting this dang thing, three rewrites, and a whole convention later, this is finished. My first step into the Spidey comic book ficdom. 
> 
> If you made it this far, thank you. I really do appreciate it. When I first started writing this, I hadn't written fic in a year. This piece became my way back into writing, so I'm sure it's a bit patchy in places. Thank you for putting up with any rough spots, and for reading. 
> 
> I'm not sure how long or far I plan to go with this "alt-universe" where Gwen lives. I do want to explore some things, and how different certain events could be with Gwen alive (Yes, Clone Saga included) but only a handful of things are mapped out right now. We'll see where things go. 
> 
> My current plan, due to my ADHD/depression, is to create separate works that will be bundled under one series (Named Amounting To Something). Each separate work will focus on a certain story, or plot point and will be (mostly) linear. Keep an eye out for what I have planned next, the first chapter should be up within a week! 
> 
> Once again, thank you guys so much.


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